


Even When You Fall

by braedens



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Derek is a Good Boyfriend, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Pillow & Blanket Forts, stiles doesn't take pain easy, the best maybe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 12:58:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5497826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braedens/pseuds/braedens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s an early December day, cold and windy outside in Beacon Hills, but toasty in the Stilinski-Hale house. The small house is quiet, the fireplace is lit and slowly seeping heat within the walls, and in their bedroom, Stiles is crying. </p><p>Or, how Stiles is having a tough day, and Derek is the Best Boyfriend Ever™.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even When You Fall

It’s an early December day, cold and windy outside in Beacon Hills, but toasty in the Stilinski-Hale house. The small house is quiet, the fireplace is lit and slowly seeping heat within the walls, and in their bedroom, Stiles is crying. 

It’s just a regular day, Derek getting off of work early because it’s Friday, and frankly, if he had to sit in his office micromanaging his team any longer, he might explode. He knows Stiles doesn’t have class today, because _it’s the most ardently fucked up situation for a college student to have any 8am or Friday classes, even when it’s for a Master’s, Derek._ Though, when Derek walked through the threshold of their home, Stiles wasn’t sprawled on the couch with his laptop tapping away, or watching some television show like he usually is. Which is odd, Stiles never leaves an opportunity to lounge around and do absolutely nothing.

 But, Derek puts it behind him in lieu of food, because after four years of dating, he’s been forced to learn that Stiles can take care of himself. Which, of course, was taught by a year of Derek feeling Stiles needed to be protected, watched. They’ve both been in enough near-death experiences in their time, and countless situations of gashes, broken bones and bruises, for Derek to warrant that. But, Stiles made it perfectly clear that he can take care of himself, and Derek is proud to know that his boyfriend can do that, really, he is.

Derek messes around in the kitchen for a bit, trying to scavenge something to cook, when he hears it. Small muffled noises break through the wall, and he can only assume it’s from their bedroom. As if on instinct, he drops what’s in his hands and races over, stopping right at the closed door. The muffled noises are now clearly sobs, and clearly from their bedroom.  
  
He doesn’t bother knocking, can’t even think that far ahead when the only voice in his head is chanting ‘Stiles’, and barges in.

Stiles is curled up in the middle of their bed, the plush blanket they keep for movie nights on the couch is thrown over his legs haphazardly. His back is to Derek and the door, but his back shaked vehemently along with the racked sobs that escape him. 

Derek can feel his heart in his chest as he walks around the bed to look at his boyfriend. Aside for the crying, he looks in tact. Derek can’t smell any blood, or sense any physical pain, but he’s still trumped as to why he’s crying. 

He’s not sure Stiles even noticed him walk into the bedroom, but his head perks up slightly when the bed dips, Derek reaching to pull the blanket up off the bottom of the bed and covering it over the both of them. He can see why Stiles was so drawn to it when they went furniture shopping; it was a white, heavy blanket that was to cozy and furry to be even real.   
  
Derek doesn’t say anything, but when he settles on his side, and Stiles looks at him with doe eyes, glistened with tears, he can only help wrapping his arms around him, pulling him so he’s flush against his chest, and Derek’s chin can rest on the top of his head. He feels Stils burrow his face into his chest and slinking his arms around Derek, he feels his body shudder and shake as he cries, even though he can’t hear tears.   
  
Derek doesn’t push, doesn’t ask him what’s wrong, because he knows Stiles will tell him when he’s ready. Almost a half-hour passes of Derek running his hands through Stiles hair, massaging his scalp, rubbing his arms lightly, and pressing kisses to the side of his head before Stiles finally moves, cheeks flushed pink, bags under his eyes.  
  
“Hi,” he mutters to Derek, and even with that small word, Derek can hear the crack in his voice.   
  
“Hey,” he says, snuggling closer, pushing the hair away from Stiles’ forehead. After a beat, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Stiles blinks once, twice, with furrowed brows staring up at Derek. His mouth opens, and then closes, and suddenly he can’t look Derek in the eyes. He stares at Derek’s chest, and he can feel Stiles’ hands grip at his shirt, tight and clenched.   
  
Derek is ready to tell him he doesn’t have to, that he’s here whenever he’s ready, not going anywhere.   
  
“This is the first Christmas I’ll be celebrating without him.”  
  
Everything stops. Or, that’s how Derek feels. The world, the room, anything outside of them and this bed just stops. Because he knows who ‘him’ is. He knows what this means. 

Stiles always knew the job of the Sheriff was unpredictable. Always being in the first line of fire doesn’t guarantee safety, and Stiles spent his whole childhood watching his dad leave, not knowing if he’s going to come back. And when Claudia passed, the fear become even more prominent in his life. But in between werewolfs, darachs, banshees, and all the other supernatural the world brought on them, that fear with replaced with million others.   
  
So, when Stiles got a call four months ago of his dad getting shot while trying to catch a kidnapper, it was his worst fear come true. And Derek watched him process it all, from having to go identify his father’s body, to the funeral, and to cleaning out his dad’s house. He would put on a front for his friends, telling them he was okay, he always knew he had to be prepared for this. But when he’d come home to Derek, it was as if all his walls were down. He could cry, he could yell, break things, and Derek would be there to pick up the metaphorical and literal pieces.   
  
Stiles got through it the best he could, and slowly was able to go on with his life, started getting back into his normal routine. But now, the start of the holidays happening, Derek can understand what he’s going through. John Stilinski was his only family, and he was going to start a long line of first time doing things without him, and Derek wishes it was any other time of the year.   
  
Stiles starts crying again, this time loud and wet, his body shaking so much in Derek’s arms, and he can only pull his boyfriend in impossibly closer, mumbling ‘I’m sorry’ to his hair.   
  
Derek’s not sure how long they sit like that, because after what feels like is ten minutes turns out to be an hour when Derek wakes up from his nap.   
  
He wakes up on his back, Stiles sprawled on top of him, head on his chest and his hand tuck behind Derek’s back. Their legs are tangled together, and Derek’s arms are snaked around Stiles, and he’s not surprised they ended up like this, seeing as Stiles always tells him it’s his favorite cuddling position.   
  
Stiles stirs on top of him, lifting his head to prop his chin up, his eyes tired and red. Derek offers a small smile, and Stiles returns it.   
  
“I’m sorry,” he starts, but Derek is already shaking his head. 

“Stop. Do _not_  apologize to me, or anyone.” He starts rubbing his hands along Stiles back, in hopes of it comforting him. “You don’t have to justify your feelings about this. It’s okay to be sad.”  
  
Stiles looks like he’s going to cry again, but he masks it with a small smile because, damn, does Derek surprise him. 

“I just, I don’t know how to do it. I don’t know how to get through the holidays without him. I don’t know how to get through anything.”  
  
His heart sinks for his boyfriend, who acts so strong and so capable all the time, but is so vulnerable now.   
  
“You do it however you can. Even if it takes weeks, months, or years.” His voice is quiet, and he keeps a hand moving on Stiles back. “John was an amazing Sheriff, and an even better father. And he died a hero. Remember that. And remember that I’m always going to be here for you, no matter what you need. I’m your family, too, and I’m not going anywhere.”  
  
This time, when Stiles cries, he has a smile on his face, even with his cheeks wet. He listens to the overwhelming urge to push up and press his lips to Derek’s, soft and slow. And his hands are soft when they touch Derek’s cheek, grounding him in a way that he can’t find anywhere else.   
  
“Wait here for a few minutes, I need to get something from the living room.” Derek says when they pull apart. Stiles just nods, and Derek places another kiss on his lips before slowly extracting himself from the bed and Stiles’ hold, taking the blanket with him.   
  
Stiles waits alone in the bedroom for almost ten minutes before Derek comes back in. But he doesn’t join him back in the bed.   
  
Derek leans over Stiles and holds out his arms, a small smile on his face.   
  
“Come with me,” he offers, and Stiles is too strung out and tired to speculate why. He lifts himself from bed, attaching himself to Derek’s side as they walk out of the bedroom together. Derek leads them both through the hallways and into their open living room, and Stiles feels his heart warm up at the sight.  
  
The sofas are pushed back against the wall, and the cushions are lined up along them. And on top of it is a large, white sheet covering it all.   
  
Derek takes Stiles’ hand in his, leading him to the front of the creation and moving to the floor. Inside, Stiles can see a bunch of their extra pillows they keep for the guest room all over the floor, the fake light-up candles they had from Lydia’s surprise birthday party, and their fluffy, white blanket in the middle.  
  
“You made me a pillow fort?” Stiles asks, astonished as he crawls in. It’s cozy and warm, and it makes him feel like he’s a little kid again.   
  
“You could use a break away from the world,” Derek says, crawling in behind him.   
  
Stiles’ smile is soft and warm when he falls into the pile of pillows, a sigh escaping from him. He feels Derek climb up beside him, and Stiles instinctively is drawn to him, waiting for Derek to settle so he can rest his head on his chest and wrap his arms around him. Sometimes he thinks he doesn’t deserve Derek, and his selective kindness. The man he remembered from years ago was so cold and stern to him, and now he does things like cuddle, and build pillow forts.   
  
“I really love you,” Stiles mumbles into his neck. “Thank you”.   
  
“I really love you, too.” he says with a small huff, curling his body around his boyfriend. 

* * *

That night, Stiles dreams of his dad and mom, pushing him on a swingset as a boy, telling him how much they love him, and he wakes up in Derek’s arms with the light shining through the blanket and feeling warm.

**Author's Note:**

> im braedens on tumblr and i write more stuff.


End file.
